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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24340696">It's Not Gay If He Doesn't Know Memes</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegreatestsun/pseuds/thegreatestsun'>thegreatestsun</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>DCU, DCU (Comics)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Fluff and Crack, Kon is less of an idiot, Kon-El | Conner Kent is Superboy, M/M, Tim Drake is Red Robin, Tim Drake is So Done, Tim... is a bit of an idiot, how am i even -, they're both idiots though</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 07:27:03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,822</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24340696</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegreatestsun/pseuds/thegreatestsun</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>We all know kissing the homies goodnight isn't gay, right?</p><p>Right?</p><p>RIGHT?!</p><p>---------</p><p>Tim kisses Kon on the cheek without thinking, and tells him that he was kissing him goodnight. Kon immediately latches onto this idea.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Tim Drake/Kon-El | Conner Kent</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>447</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>It's Not Gay If He Doesn't Know Memes</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I... I don't know why I wrote this. This just exists now. Nearly 4k based off of a sentence.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was an accident. It was purely, and utterly, an accident. And… Tim wasn’t sure what to do.</p><p> </p><p>It’d started when he and Kon were having a movie night, something completely normal for both of them. Bundled up in blankets in front of Tim’s laptop, they were watching <em>Grease</em>, per recommendation from Bart, and just as Danny and Sandy had flown away in their apparently magic car – Kon had yawned, said something about probably sleeping, and Tim had agreed, and without even thinking about it, had swooped in and planted a kiss on Kon’s cheek.</p><p> </p><p>Kon had frozen, and so had Tim.</p><p> </p><p>“Dude… did you just kiss me?” Kon asked, voice somewhere in between confused and… something else. Tim felt his face flush – curse his pale skin! – and, with his mind blank, simply said the <em>worst</em> possible thing he could’ve.</p><p> </p><p>“Kissing the homies goodnight isn’t gay?” he joked, wanting to curl up and die the second his brain caught up with his mouth. Kon gave him a suspicious look.</p><p> </p><p>“Kissing the… oh, is that a thing?” he asked, sounding genuinely curious, twisting to face Tim properly. “Kissing people goodnight?” his blue eyes were wide and curious and Tim <em>wished</em> he was wearing his sunglasses so he wouldn’t have to look at him and act like he wasn’t madly in love.</p><p> </p><p>Tim felt out of his depth. What – what were you even meant to <em>say</em>? ‘Sorry, no, it’s not a thing, I just felt so comfortable and domestic around you that I forgot we aren’t dating and my big fat stupid crush on you took over my brain for a hot minute’?</p><p> </p><p>“Uh – yeah.” He said, and internally berating himself, he continued. “It’s normally something parents do with their younger kids, but, uh, close friends do it too.” He explained awkwardly.</p><p> </p><p>Kon nodded, as if he understood. “Got it. It’s like a <em>really</em> close friends thing, right? Like in anime, when friends start calling each other by their first names? Never really got that.”</p><p> </p><p>Tim nodded, feeling awful. “Yep. Really close friends. Well, I’m going to bed.” He said, fighting the urge to scream.</p><p> </p><p>“Wait!” Kon said, not picking up on how Tim fucking Drake had just said he was <em>willingly going to sleep</em>. “I gotta kiss you goodnight as well, make it even.” He said, and Tim hated the fact he was so open and honest and easy to read. Stupid Kon.</p><p> </p><p>Before he could protest, Kon was pressing a quick kiss to his cheekbone, and standing up to walk over to his sleeping bag on the floor, dragging his blanket behind him.</p><p> </p><p>“G’night, Timmy.” He said through a yawn as he clambered into the sleeping bag. Tim did the same with almost robotic movements, feeling like his brain had short circuited.</p><p> </p><p>“Night, Kon.” He said, but Kon was already snoring softly. The memory of his kiss on Tim’s cheek almost burnt, and Tim was sure he’d have to get that checked out. He reached up, and grazed the spot with his fingers, surprised to find it a little colder than the rest of his face. Did Kon have a cold mouth? He’d been a little too braindead to register it at the time.</p><p> </p><p>Tim rolled over onto his side, and wondered how the hell he was going to work around this.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>It was surprisingly easy to work around. If they had sleepovers, Kon would eagerly smack a kiss onto his face, Tim would shyly give him one back, and they’d fall asleep. Kon didn’t limit himself to just Tim’s cheek, oh no, that’d be too easy on Tim’s heart. Kon kissed his cheek, his forehead, his <em>nose</em> one time – which had been so endearing it <em>had</em> to be illegal – and once, his hand, like he was some kind of fancy lady and Kon was a gentleman.</p><p> </p><p>He was. A gentleman, that is. Tim had seen him in relationships. He was also sure he’d literally seen Kon put his jacket – <em>the</em> jacket, mind you. The one with all the spikes and patches that Tim was pretty sure he’d prioritize over certain people’s lives – over a puddle so someone could walk over it. The considerate bastard.</p><p> </p><p>It had to be illegal, how fucking… just <em>sweet</em> he was. Tim could sue him, for… medical damages. Heart palpitations. Excessive blood flow to the face. Or whatever.</p><p> </p><p>As it turned out, Kon did have cold lips. All the time – a direct result of having frost breath, Tim was assuming. He didn’t exactly have the guts to bring it up and ask.</p><p> </p><p>But, as Tim was quickly figuring out, Kon was <em>very</em> determined to emphasise this new part of their friendship – Tim was mindful to get out of the line of sight of any other Young Justice members every time it was about to happen, because he knew for a fact that Kon wouldn’t care about kissing him goodnight in front of Cassie or Bart. And he did <em>not</em> need to answer their questions about how the hell that had happened. Even if Tim hadn’t seen him all day from being cooped up in his room, working on something, Kon would float in, press a kiss to his hair, and float out, stretching in mid-air.</p><p> </p><p>It made Tim want to scream. Conner was… a sweet guy. Affectionate. It wasn’t – it wasn’t <em>surprising</em> that he kept doing that. But Tim still felt like an on-fire garbage can about not telling him the truth, and he also felt maybe just a <em>little</em> frustrated about Kon not kissing him in the way he really wanted.</p><p> </p><p>Which made him feel a lot worse.</p><p> </p><p>Like right now. Sat in their headquarters’s large media room, he was working on some case, he could barely remember what, something about Mr Freeze for Bruce, and Kon was laying on his lap, curled up like a cat, and fast asleep. He’d sleepily pressed a kiss to Tim’s face, but had missed, accidentally hit his jaw, and had barely noticed, and passed out on Tim’s lap, the rest of him barely touching the large expanse of couch, because <em>apparently</em>, Tim was comfier.</p><p> </p><p>Yep. Tim was going to have a heart attack. He’d have to tell Clark that his clone son was, in fact, an evil villain and was conspiring against all of them by having a devious plot to murder Red Robin via cardiac arrest. It was a shame, really, as Conner and Clark were really starting to get on.</p><p> </p><p>He sighed, and looked away from his laptop, and at the boy snoring almost inaudibly below him. He’d left his sunglasses on, the idiot. And his jacket, and boots – and wasn’t Tim meant to be the disaster here?</p><p> </p><p>Tim shut his laptop – he wasn’t going to make anymore progress on the case, not for a little while, at least – and put it on the floor next to them. Then, he slowly began the delicate process of ‘making Kon comfy <em>without</em> waking him up’.</p><p> </p><p>He slowly tilted Kon’s face, so he was looking up, and gently slid the sunglasses off. He had indents where they’d been pressing against him. Tim fought the urge to smooth his thumb against them, but allowed himself a few seconds to appreciate Kon’s face when it was relaxed. All that tanned skin and big eyes and all his little freckles and the really cute little mole he had right next to his lip – he was too pretty, really. It was just unfair.</p><p> </p><p>Next, the most difficult step. He had to untangle himself and Kon, so he could take off his jacket and boots for him. To be fair, he mused as he gently moved Kon’s arms from around his waist, it’d been a long day. There’d been a bit of an incident with the emergency Kryptonite, and Kon had unfortunately been in the room when it happened, and had been feeling a little weak and tired for the rest of the day.</p><p> </p><p>Tim would have to set an alarm to wake him up early, and drag him outside to watch the sunrise. So he could recharge his powers, of course.</p><p> </p><p>…and maybe because Tim really liked the way his hair and eyes almost glowed in the early morning sun. He was only human, and, well, Kon was stunning.</p><p> </p><p>Finally, fully detached, he pulled off that ridiculous jacket that he loved so much, unlaced Conner’s boots, (they’d had a pretty funny argument about those boots, once. Kon had thought they were <em>so</em> punk, and Tim pointed out that they looked a little like cowboy boots. What made it funnier at the time was that Kon had just started to develop a hint of a Kansas accent from living with Superman’s parents, and it apparently got worse when he was mad. Tim couldn’t help but grin at the memory.) and pulled them off as slowly as he could, he ran to Kon’s room, and grabbed the blanket on his bed.</p><p> </p><p>By the time he’d gotten back to the media room, Kon was stretched out a little now, and had his arms in front of him, almost like he was reaching for something. Or someone. Tim knew it was probably gross and wrong to let his eyes linger on Conner’s exposed arm, but… he had three little moles in a line across his bicep, and he apparently had thousands of little galaxies of freckles on the inside of his arms, and…</p><p> </p><p>Tim threw the blanket over him, face bright red. Now was <em>not</em> the time to be getting distracted by Kon’s arms. No matter how nice they were.</p><p> </p><p>But, as he arranged the blanket around his friend, he felt a familiar brush of nothingness around his wrists and forearms. He knew Kon sometimes reached out with his TTK in his sleep, which was cute, but also kind of inconvenient. It was also a little jarring, especially if he was having a nightmare, and then the nearest person would find themselves in a death grip, because when Kon was afraid, he held onto people.</p><p> </p><p>Tim paused. <em>Was</em> Kon having a nightmare? He tried to judge from his face, and the TTK, but both seemed very relaxed. The pressure on his arms was gentle, and seemed to be tugging him towards something. Tim sighed, and relented, letting the telekinesis pull him in the direction it wanted.</p><p> </p><p>Which, apparently, was straight into Conner’s arms. Tim bit back a noise of surprise as the TTK pulled him closer, and onto the couch.</p><p> </p><p>Tim sighed, and looked around quickly. If Kon was reaching out – he was probably having a nightmare or something. And it’d just be cruel to leave him alone.</p><p> </p><p>He pushed Conner back, slightly, and laid down in the space next to him. And he <em>didn’t</em> squeak when Kon curled up against him, and rested his face in the crook of Tim’s neck, and Tim <em>absolutely</em> did not forget how to breathe when Kon basically fucking nuzzled him.</p><p> </p><p>With Kon’s hair pressed up against his face, his breath ghosting over his neck, his arms shifting to pull Tim a little closer… this was a nightmare.</p><p> </p><p>Tim bit his lip, cast another look around, just in case, and pressed a kiss to Kon’s hair, and closed his eyes.</p><p> </p><p>After all. Kissing the homies goodnight wasn’t gay.</p><p> </p><p>And if Tim woke up to Kon’s arms properly wrapped around him, and the blanket over both of them, and Cassie’s laughter in the hallway, he didn’t comment on it.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Tim regretted every single decision he’d ever made that led up to that moment. Every. Single. <em>One</em>.</p><p> </p><p>It was movie night again, only this time, Bart was joining them. They’d been watching <em>Heathers</em>, because Tim had gained a sudden appreciation of 80’s films. Bart had been eagerly paying attention, quoting every line from the movie under his breath after it played, tucked in next to Tim, and Kon was on the other side of him, dozing slightly.</p><p> </p><p>As the ending credits played, Kon blinked his eyes open, and rubbed his eyes.</p><p> </p><p>“Well, I’m exhausted.” He commented, standing up and stretching. Tim knew what was coming, and his mind immediately raced through a million excuses as Kon bent over, and pressed a kiss to Tim’s forehead. Tim was just glad it was dark in the media room, and that his blush wasn’t super noticeable.</p><p> </p><p>But then, Kon leaned over Tim, and kissed Bart’s forehead. Tim froze.</p><p> </p><p>Fuck. <em>Fuck</em>. <em>Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck</em>. How was he going to explain this!?</p><p> </p><p>“Goodnight, y’all.” Kon said cheerfully, before floating off the ground, and drifting off to his room.</p><p> </p><p>“Night.” Tim muttered bitterly.</p><p> </p><p>When Conner’s silhouette disappeared from the doorway, Bart pounced.</p><p> </p><p>“Uh, dude. Why did your boyfriend just kiss me?” Bart asked, clearly confused. Tim felt himself flush even deeper, and threw his hands over his face, and groaned.</p><p> </p><p>“He – he’s not my boyfriend.” Tim argued weakly. “It’s kind of an accident, but… uh. I kind of told him that,” he held up his hands to make quotation marks, “I told him that ‘kissing the homies goodnight isn’t gay’, and now he thinks that it’s a totally normal thing to do.” He explained, embarrassment curling in his stomach.</p><p> </p><p>Bart was silent for a moment, before bursting into laughter. “Oh my <em>god</em>, that’s <em>amazing</em>.”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s <em>not</em>. He keeps <em>kissing </em>me and it’s a nightmare!” Tim complained, falling backwards. “I’m just glad he doesn’t have an internet connection; can you <em>imagine</em> how disastrous that’d be?”</p><p> </p><p>“You’re gonna have to tell him <em>eventually</em>!” Bart said through wheezing laughter. “This is so crash!” His giggles eventually died down, though, as Tim didn’t respond.</p><p> </p><p>“Dude…” Bart said quietly. “You’re gonna tell him, right?” he asked, leaning over to look at Tim, face lit up by the still rolling credits.</p><p> </p><p>Tim nodded. “Yeah, I am. It’s just – like, how? He’s not online at all, I’m like ninety percent sure he’s straight –” Bart snorted at that, “and he’ll most likely think I’m a terrible person for not telling him sooner. Y’know?”</p><p> </p><p>Bart shot him a sympathetic look. “I guess you gotta tell him sooner, rather than later.”</p><p> </p><p>Tim glared at him. “When did you get all emotionally mature?”</p><p> </p><p>“Same time you accidentally told Kon that kissing the homies goodnight wasn’t gay –” he started, but was quickly cut off by Tim tossing a pillow at him and laughing.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>“You work with Batman. You know eighteen different ways to get rid of a body. You are a bad bitch.” Tim muttered to himself. “Kon is nice, he won’t hate you, and you know where the kryptonite is stored. This is gonna be <em>fine</em>.” He told his reflection in the mirror.</p><p> </p><p>“Tim?” a voice asked from behind, and Tim did <em>not</em> shriek in surprise. He whirled around to see Kon – <em>of course</em> it was Kon – giving him a slightly concerned smile. “You doing okay, buddy?”</p><p> </p><p>Tim’s brain was very good at doing this thing where it just kind of short-circuited around Conner, and he had absolutely no filter whatsoever. It’s what got him into this stupid fucking mess anyway.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s a meme.” Tim blurted out, leading to Kon raising an eyebrow at him and the smile dropping.</p><p> </p><p>“What is?” Kon asked, walking closer to him. Tim swallowed when he realized he was walking instead of flying. Why was it suddenly a lot harder to explain than if he’d been floating a few inches off the ground?!<br/><br/></p><p>“The whole kissing your friends goodnight thing.” Tim explained shakily. “And about it not being gay. It’s a stupid fucking meme.”</p><p> </p><p>And then, Conner froze. He bit down on his lip as a wide smile began to spread across his face. Tim looked at him in confusion as he gave up and burst into laughter.</p><p> </p><p>“Dude, Tim, I <em>know</em>.” He said through giggles. “I know, dude, I know. I got my phone like two months ago. The first thing I <em>did</em> was get Twitter! Of course I know memes!”</p><p> </p><p>And with Kon just standing there, grinning, Tim felt like an idiot. An absolute and utter idiot.</p><p> </p><p>“…Dick.” He muttered, going to push past him.</p><p> </p><p>“Dick? What about him?” Conner asked, not moving. And it’s not like Tim would be able to physically push past him. And that just made him feel angrier.</p><p> </p><p>“No, <em>you</em>!” Tim snapped. “You’re <em>such</em> a fucking dick!”</p><p> </p><p>Kon’s face fell into a confused and sad expression that made Tim want to dig himself into a hole and never come out. Goddamn <em>Kon</em> and his goddamn kicked puppy expressions. “What?”</p><p> </p><p>“Just – fuck off.” Tim said, elbowing him in the ribs, a little harsher than what he normally did. Who cared, he probably wouldn’t even <em>feel</em> it. “Let me fucking pass.”<br/><br/></p><p>Conner silently moved out of his way, and Tim stormed out of the bathroom. Kon knew. He fucking knew! He didn’t <em>say</em> anything and he fucking knew! Had he been fucking with Tim this entire time?! And he hadn’t said anything when Tim did it <em>back</em>.</p><p> </p><p>He didn’t really know where he was going. But when he found himself at the security room, he didn’t walk away. He opened the door, slumped in the chair, and tried not to feel like a piece of shit.</p><p> </p><p>He flicked through the multiple security feeds. And every time Kon would show up on one, Tim would press his lips together, stare at him for a moment longer than he wanted to, and then moved on to the next one.</p><p> </p><p>And he <em>totally</em> didn’t feel awful every time he saw Kon look sad or distant on the cameras, and he really, really didn’t swear to himself quietly when he caught Kon wiping at his face suspiciously.</p><p> </p><p>Nope. Not. At. <em>All</em>.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Tim woke up in his bed. Not his bed at Wayne Manor, but in the Young Justice headquarters. He was tucked in and still in the clothes he must’ve passed out in, save for the lack of shoes. He knew that Bart would’ve just put a blanket over him if he passed out in the surveillance room, and Cassie would’ve woken him up and forced him to go to bed, but there was only one person who was willing to move him at what he knew was a painfully slow pace to keep him asleep.</p><p> </p><p>Kon. The kind <em>bastard</em>.</p><p> </p><p>Tim rolled over, grabbed his pillow, and punched it. Multiple times. Why did Kon do such a <em>dickish</em> thing and then just – just <em>continue</em> being so fucking nice?! And <em>why</em> did Tim have to get a warm feeling in his chest and also a little sad one at not being conscious for being carried gently and lovingly by one <em>fucking Superboy</em>.</p><p> </p><p>He gave up on the punching, and hid his face in the pillow, and groaned instead. Why? Just – just why did <em>Kon</em> have to be like this and why did Tim have to <em>adore</em> him for it?</p><p> </p><p>There was a soft noise from outside, and then the door creaked open slightly. Tim froze. Who was it?</p><p> </p><p>“Shit, still asleep –” a familiar, soft voice, with a stronger Kansas accent than he’d like to admit, and Tim was sat bolt upright and catching Kon’s eyes before he really knew what was happening.</p><p> </p><p>Tim felt his face flush as he realized Kon wasn’t wearing a shirt. He was just wearing soft pyjama pants and the earrings he couldn’t take out. Like the ones studded around the edge of his ear.</p><p> </p><p>…he had freckles on his stomach, too. And his shoulders. And on his chest – he just kind of has them everywhere. But not hundreds and thousands. Just… kind of evenly spread.</p><p> </p><p>“Did – did you carry me to bed?” Tim asked, feeling… well. He wasn’t angry anymore. Well – he <em>was</em>, but it wasn’t the first thing in his head.</p><p> </p><p>Kon nodded, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. Tim didn’t look at his arms. He totally, totally didn’t. “You – I know you’re mad. I’m sorry, I mean, for both things, but I <em>mean</em> carrying you to bed but –”</p><p> </p><p>Tim was reminded very, very, very sharply of why he liked Conner so much. He was <em>fucking adorable</em>.</p><p> </p><p>“Kon.” He said quietly. “It’s okay. I mean – I don’t think you need to apologize. Well, maybe you do – just, why? Why didn’t you say anything?” he asked, folding his legs so he was sat in a cross-legged position. “Why did you keep kissing me?” he refused to look up, keeping his eyes trained on his crossed ankles.</p><p> </p><p>Conner was silent, before laughing awkwardly. “Okay, don’t freak out, because I know what you’re like.” Tim’s eyes shot up, and he suddenly felt his heartbeat a lot more strongly because Kon was <em>blushing</em>.</p><p> </p><p>“I like you.” He said, and Tim’s world slowed to a stop. He could almost <em>see</em> the freeze-frame and hear the record scratch.</p><p> </p><p>“You – what?” Tim asked, his brain having not quite caught up to the rest of the world.</p><p> </p><p>Conner was really blushing now, a dark pink against tanned skin and he was smiling awkwardly and a little guiltily and holy shit was this real life? It couldn’t be, right? He was dreaming. This was just a really good dream.</p><p> </p><p>“I like you.” He repeated. “I really like you. You know, like <em>that</em>. And – and you kissed me and I was like ‘whoa, this is amazing’ and then you said that it wasn’t gay, and I knew you didn’t know I was online. Fuckin’ somehow. And I thought, well, what if I pretended that I don’t know? And then you let me kiss you. And we kept kissing each other.” He explained, his accent getting a little heavier as he spoke. He was embarrassed, and it was literally the most endearing thing Tim had ever seen in his entire life.</p><p> </p><p>“And…” yeah, there was definitely a heavy drawl on that. “And it’s really nice. So, I didn’t stop. I’m a terrible, selfish person, I know.” He tried to argue, raising his hands in mock surrender. “But, like, there’s my reason. So – please don’t hate me?”</p><p> </p><p>Tim blinked. “Get over here.”</p><p> </p><p>“What? So you can punch me?” he guessed, already sounding a little resigned, and Tim simply couldn’t have <em>that</em>.</p><p> </p><p>“No, so I can kiss you properly, you absolute himbo.” Tim said, and he wasn’t even halfway through his last word before Kon was next to him on the bed, and his face very close.</p><p> </p><p>“You – wait, you like–?” Kon asked, voice ridiculously hopeful and… Christ, no eyes could be that blue naturally. Had to be some weird part of the cloning process. Or Kryptonian DNA. Or… or maybe it was just Kon. Tim suddenly remembered his question, and nodded.</p><p> </p><p>“Romantic styles?”</p><p> </p><p>“<em>Yes, </em>you idiot. Can I kiss you for <em>real</em> now, or…?”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>As it turns out, dating Kon didn’t just mean the goodnight kisses continued. It also meant good morning kisses. ‘Hi there’ kisses. ‘I missed you’ kisses. ‘You looked too damn pretty for me not to kiss you’ kisses.</p><p> </p><p>Maybe kissing the homies goodnight <em>was</em> a little gay, after all.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Well I hope you enjoyed this strange little idea I had! </p><p>Drop a kudos if you please &lt;3</p></blockquote></div></div>
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